Chapter 33
Hollis Ridge
Izzy thrashed, her boots kicking uselessly, her fingernails clawing at the forearm locked across her ribs. This is it, she thought, blind panic rising. Wade found me.
She was pulled down into the dirt. A heavy body landed on top of her, pressing her into the damp needles. She was rolled over, pinned beneath a solid weight, and the hand remained firmly over her mouth.
She looked up, eyes wide and frantic, and saw him.
Grant.
His face was inches from hers, streaked with grease and grit, his eyes dark and wild.
“Be quiet,” he hissed, his voice so low it was almost a vibration. “Don’t say a word.”
Izzy’s chest heaved, her breath coming in shallow hitches against his palm. Grant’s lungs worked like bellows, his body a shield of pure muscle above her.
From a few yards away, voices drifted through the trees. The sound of heavy boots on asphalt.
“This shipment is short,” a man growled, his voice gravelly and impatient. “You tell Hollis he better have the rest of it by the next scheduled pickup, or we’re taking it out of his hide.”
Grant’s eyes never left Izzy’s. He put a single finger to his lips. She gave a small, frantic nod, and he slowly, cautiously, removed his hand from her mouth.
He didn’t move. He stayed lying on top of her, keeping her flat against the earth as the men continued to argue near the plane.
His weight was the only thing stopping her from shaking apart.
Slowly, Grant reached down, his hand finding hers in the dirt, winding his fingers through hers—a silent anchor in the middle of the nightmare.
Finally, the sound of the plane’s engine increased, the forklift beeped, and the voices faded as the men headed back toward the landing strip.
Grant didn’t waste a second. He helped her up, his grip on her arm bruising.
“We have to get you out of here,” he hissed, his face hard with controlled fury. “Have you lost your mind?”
* * *
The Overlook — Simultaneously
Up on the ridge, the air was cold and thin. Sheriff Burke Scott and Deputy Scout Wilson were positioned behind the long-range scope, their bodies prone against the rock.
“Grant’s moving,” Scout whispered, his voice tight.
Burke had his eyes pressed against the binoculars so hard they were aching. Through the lenses, his brother was a dark blur, running at full speed toward the wood line across the pasture. It’ll be a miracle if they didn’t see him from the plane,” Burke muttered, his knuckles white around the glass.
They watched in agonizing silence as Grant disappeared into the trees. Every minute felt like an hour. Then, a flash of movement.
“He’s got her,” Scout breathed, a heavy exhale of relief escaping him. “Whew. He’s got her.”
Through the binoculars, Burke watched as Grant reached the gray gelding, hoisted Izzy into the saddle, and began leading the horse at a trot through the thickest timber, staying off the main trails until they reached an opening near the access road.
“She’s clear,” Burke said, his voice finally losing its jagged edge. “She’s heading back toward the stables.”
* * *
The Access Road
Izzy pushed the gray toward the stables, her hands still trembling on the reins. She was almost to the clearing when a flash of silver appeared.
Wade Hollis’s Escalade rolled toward her, slowing to a smooth, predatory crawl.
Grant, hidden in the brush twenty feet away, stopped in his tracks. He held his breath, staying low, his hand on the hilt of his knife as he watched the scene unfold.
The tinted glass of the Escalade rolled down with a slow, mechanical hiss. Wade Hollis leaned his elbow on the doorframe, a small, cold smile on his face, the faint smell of cigar smoke clinging to him.
“Well, well, darlin’,” Wade said, his voice smooth as honey and twice as thick. “What in the world are you doing out here?”
Izzy was still breathless. She leaned down, pretending to pat the horse’s neck to hide her shaking hands. “I was riding while Cal was busy with the vet and a sick mare,” she said, forcing a small, airy laugh. “I kind of got lost. It’s so beautiful out here, but…”
Wade’s eyes moved over her—taking in her flushed face, her messy hair, and the frantic rise and fall of her breast. His smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Well, darlin’, the fresh air sure does agree with you,” he said, his gaze lingering. “But stay out of this area. It’s not safe out here, and I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”
Izzy let out a soft, practiced laugh—the one she used in Denver when wealthy clients hit on her, a sound that was all charm and no substance. “I’ll keep that in mind, Mr. Hollis.”
Wade nodded once, the window hissed back up, and the Escalade rolled on toward the airstrip.
Grant waited until the silver taillights vanished around the bend before he moved. He took a deep breath, watched until the road was completely clear, then doubled back, vanishing into the side of the ridge as he climbed back up toward Burke and Scout.